


State Standards

by destielpasta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Teacher Castiel, Teacher Dean, high school teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielpasta/pseuds/destielpasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is used to students crying in his office, but he's not about to let it happen over something as stupid as <i>Gym Class.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	State Standards

**Author's Note:**

> Actual self-indulgent English Teacher Dean fluff with a hint of Deancas. Enjoy.

“Ok, kid, here, take this. And _breathe._ You’re gonna puke going on like that.”

Wes takes another tissue from the box Dean holds out to xem, blowing xyrs nose loud enough to make Dean want to laugh. He carefully controls his face, however, not wanting to scare the poor kid away.

“Alright Wes. Can you tell me what happened now?”

Wes’s breath hitches a few more times before xe straightens up, taking a deep breath. “Coach Bart… yelled at me while we were on the track today. Called me lazy, said I never try.”

Dean grimaces, not liking where this is going. “What were you doing in gym?”

“The physical fitness test. We have to run a mile before the year is over.”

“Mhm,” Dean says, tapping his fingers on the desk, feeling anger bubbling in his chest. He’s never had Wes in class, but he knows xem from the GSA, and xe’s a quiet kid. Xe likes to paint the posters and come up with fundraising ideas, but rarely is outspoken in debates or discussions. There’s no reason to shame a kid like that.

“I mean, I’ve never run a mile before–”

“Wait here, Wes.”

“Wha– ?”

But Dean’s already out the door, breezing past kids packing up to go home and out of the English department (something he doesn’t like to do) and into the science wing where the athletic office sits in between Chem labs. Coach Bart sits at his desk, writing something down that looks an awful lot like sudoku before he whisks it away from Dean’s sight.

“By all means, just let yourself in, Winchester–”

“It’s time we had a chat, Bart.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?

Dean shuts the door behind him, plopping down in the hard-backed chair Bart must save for his victims.

“What’s this about making kids run a mile?”

Bart shrugs, making that stupid face assholes make when they know they’re doing something wrong but want to act like it’s totally fine.

“Come on Dean–  you know the drill. Presidential Physical fitness test!” He throws his hands up, landing back on his desk with a slap, “My hands are tied by the state!”

Dean nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t I know it. What’s your curriculum like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your curriculum, Bart!” The final bell rings, and he notices Bart looking at the clock. “How do you teach them to run a mile?”

Bart shakes his head. “This ain’t Shakespeare, Winchester. I take the kids to the track and they run.”

“So what if they’ve never run before? How do you teach them?”

“Kids run. Or they should. Everything else is just laziness.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean says, staring him down.

Bart squirms in his seat. “If this about Wes Scott, you don’t need to make a scene–”

“When a kid comes to my classroom sobbing I’m sure as hell gonna make a scene.”

“She–”

“Xe.”

Bart rolls his eyes; Dean clenches his fist at his side. “ _Xe_ wasn’t doing what had to be done. The directions were to run. Not walk. Simple.”

“You ever actually get your head out of your ass, Bart? You realize you’re hired to teach these kids, right?”

“Wait a damn second–”

“You ever hear of running the straights and walking the curves? Great way to start a kid running on the track. We’ve got a cart full of iPods, ever think of getting some of the kids hooked up to couch to 5k?” Dean stands up. “Never ran a day in my life, and I know more than you.”

“You’re an asshole, Winchester,” Bart says, shaking his head. “You get too soft on these kids and they’ll eat you alive!”

“Maybe I should let them.” He palms for the door-knob, not trusting himself to stay in the same room with Bart any longer. “All I’m saying is that you better start teaching these kids.”

Bart stands up, face twisted. “Or what, Winchester?”

Dean shrugs. “Or you’ll be a shitty teacher. Isn’t that enough, Bart?”

Bart shakes his head. “Fucking asshole.”

“But, if you need a reason,” Dean crowds to the desk, getting in Bart’s face. “Next time a kid comes to me crying, I’ll bring the Union into this. And then the administration.” He goes to the door again, as Bart turns an unflattering shade of purple, “Cheer up, Bartholomew, it’s budget season.”

Dean doesn’t look back as he opens the door and re-enters the hallway, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He looks up, seeing Castiel Novak standing his doorway, leaning against the frame and smirking.

“Can I help you, Novak?” He asks, usually up for their banter but not feeling it at the moment.

“Nope,” Cas says, crossing his arms.

“Well, have a good night.”

He starts to walk away when Cas calls out to him.

“You’re a good guy, Dean. I don’t think anyone has ever does something like that for Wes Scott before.”

Dean turns, his face cracking into a genuine smile. “Thanks. Gonna crash the meeting again? The kids like having you there.”

“Sure. Will you walk me there?” He asks, eyes playful.

Dean shakes his head, laughing and feeling heat under his collar. “Come on Romeo, I’ve got a GSA meeting to run.”


End file.
